Prisoner of Lust
by theygavemesalmons
Summary: As if her scent alone was not enough for me to lose control: The added torments of her sweat, her rapid pulse, the blood racing through her veins, her quickened breath, and, of course, the scent of her arousal, even sweeter than her blood alone...


**Prisoner of Lust**

It was another of those nights.

As I climbed in through her window, I briefly wondered how she was going to react to my intrusion if she ever were to find out. I quietly settled into the chair I thought of as my usual place, and then I finally allowed myself to look at her.

I felt as though my heart was about to beat again every time I watched her. Despite all the times I'd seen her like this, her appearance never failed to make that impression on me. Her slumbering self, breathing evenly, sighing every now and then, the occasional word mumbled – I had never deserved this kind of intimacy she was unconsciously sharing with me, monster that I was. And yet, I could not stop myself from taking her privacy away from her. From watching her sleep.

Only that she did not seem to sleep at all.

I froze. Maybe I had woken her up this time after all. My mind raced, combing through my options – would I be able to get outside unnoticed? Or would I face her, risking her anger? I decided to wait, not breathing, anticipating her reaction. I glanced at the clock, counting the minutes, one, two, five, ten – and still she didn't seem to notice me. I never wanted so much to be able to hear her thoughts. What if she knew I was there, but waited out for me to reveal myself so that she could send me away forever? Her breathing was even, still.

If she had not confronted me yet, then she surely had not noticed me. I tried to calm myself down, telling myself I was not to be exposed for the monster I was. I closed my eyes and took a long breath, tasting her scent lingering on my tongue.

I heard her shuffle and opened my eyes. She still didn't react to my presence. Instead, she kicked her blanket to the floor and shifted restlessly. She sighed, rolling unto her back. Now uncovered, I could see that all she wore was a tattered black t-shirt. The contrast of her white legs on the dark blue sheet was striking, I could not help but admire her pale perfection.

She sighed again, furrowing her brow as if she were thinking about something too hard. I wanted to reach out to her, take her troubles away, comfort her in any way. Only then I noticed that I had concentrated on her face too much to notice her hand, slowly travelling down the side of her body until it rested against her thigh. She pulled her shirt up a bit, just enough to expose her flat stomach, and placed her hand just above the waistband of her underwear. Realization dawned upon me.

Bella was a girl of seventeen, in the middle of puberty and full of desires. What she was about to do was the most natural and human thing, and the most obvious.

Bella was about to masturbate, and I was about to watch her. Like the sick, perverted monster I was.

I wanted to leave, to get out before it was too late, but I could not bring myself to move.

I wanted to look away, to not deprive her of what felt like the last piece of privacy I had left her, but my betraying eyes would not follow my orders.

I swallowed heavily as she seemed to relax. I was glad my heart was unable to beat, for my pulse alone would have been enough to give me away.

Bella spread her legs.

I felt my breath quicken, my hands desperately clamping on my chair. In the small room, her bed was located in such a manner that I her feet faced me – meaning I could perfectly view the place her hand was headed, which I was trying to avoid with all my might. I would not rip her from her dignity. I was trying to approach the matter logically. Her blood would surely race when she... did that, so staying near her would be an immediate danger to her. I was not sure if I could handle her flavour in a situation like that. I was not prepared. And yet, I still could not move.

Bella's hand slid into her underwear, and I lost focus.

Her brow furrowed again, and, sliding her lips apart, she took a deep, deep breath. Her fingers seemed to move – I tried not to look – and she licked her lips.

I was lost, utterly lost. If she were to discover me now, she surely would drive me away forever. Not that I did not deserve that. I deserved the worst for what I did to her, without her even noticing, it seemed. I began to make excuses for myself.

I was sure that she was in a state of heightened awareness. If I were to move now, she would definitely notice. But if I were able to stay quiet, unmoving, then maybe I would be lucky enough for her to be lost in her … activity so much that she would be oblivious to my presence. It was all I could gamble for.

I continued watching her face, expressions changing every minute, while trying to ignore the soft rustling coming from below her hip. Her movements shook her body ever so slightly, and a slight sheen of sweat appeared on her forehead.

Bella pulled her hand out of her underwear, and the scent of her wetness hit me. I tried not to gasp and silently pleaded she would not make it worse, but then she put her legs on the floor and removed her panties. As she swung them back on the mattress, the scent reached me again. It took all my strength to keep myself from standing up and doing things to her that, even if there were a miracle happening for her to agree to my wishes, she was entirely too fragile for.

I could not deny my own arousal any more. As if her scent alone was not enough for me to lose control: The added torments of her sweat, her rapid pulse, the blood racing through her veins, her quickened breath, and, of course, the scent of her arousal, even sweeter than her blood alone – it was all too much to bear, too much for me to stay controlled. And when I heard her loud gasp, accompanied by a small, slick sound, all caution was lost.

I hissed, grabbing the arm of my chair almost hard enough to rip it out. A ghosting motion flew to my arousal, gripping me. I stared in shock, only to notice it was my own hand betraying me, rubbing me. I knew I was in danger of damning both myself and the girl in the bed, I screamed at myself on the top of my mental lungs to stop, but it was nothing but impossible to do so. Bella's fingers fell into a quick rhythm, working her sex. I finally allowed myself to look – after all, everything was lost now -, directing my glance towards what lay between her spread thighs.

Despite the talents that came with belonging to my kind, I could take in only very little. I saw fleeting motions of her fingers, I saw glistening wetness, I saw a soft flock of hair, I saw twitching thighs... and then I saw her face, eyes closed, eyebrows arched, her panting mouth, pink lips parted in lust, and the blush I so loved, and her hair fanned out all over her pillow. All the while I had unwillingly continued the friction my fraudulent hand had started, but now I needed more. I opened my slacks in a hopefully unheard motion, and freed myself.

Immediately, I gripped myself hard, and started a repetitive motion, up and down. I gritted my teeth as I continued watching her, taking in as much as I could from the vision, for I was sure I was to never see her again. After I had gone so far, it didn't matter now. I let my head fall back and took a couple of deep breaths while I stroked myself furiously, almost angrily, as though I were already punishing me for my foolishness. This was not something to be enjoyed. It was but the necessary act to keep myself distracted from her, from exposing me.

And yet, what did it good! Instead of distracting me, it made me focus on her even more – Every of her motions, every breath and gasp, every drop of sweat took me higher, held me a prisoner of lust – both mine and hers. I prayed for this night to be over.

Bella's gasps became more audible. The occasional little moan escaped her lips, and every time it hit me like the first time I smelled her scent. I briefly wondered what she might be thinking of – and for once I was thankful I could not hear her thoughts, for I did not really want to know. After all, it would never be me – and if it were, she would be better off dead.

We continued, she too oblivious, I much too intoxicated by her, and even without being able to hear her thoughts I felt that she would not go on for much longer: I could tell by her quickened breath, by her full-body blush, by her pulse that ran so high it would almost be worrying if I weren't aware of the power such feelings held.

Bella's fingers moved quicker and quicker still, her unused hand gripping at the sheets tightly, twisting them – as I twisted my fingers, twitching member in hand, dizzyingly close to losing myself – and Bella.

Something seemed to tighten – it started with Bella's feet, toes curling inward, heels raising up, legs shifting, stretching, Goosebumps rising, chasing up her writhing form following an almost visible trail... Bella threw back her head in anguish,white teeth biting down on a luscious lower lip, releasing, lips parting, exhaling -

"E... Edward!"

I came violently, orgasm ripping through me with an earth-shattering force, pumping all over my clothing, covering me in my sin. It took me by sheer surprise, her seraphim voice sending me over the edge, sealing my fate. I shuddered, disgusted, filled with self-abhorrence. I could not form a coherent thought. But Bella lay still, arms and legs outstretched, breathing hard, shaking – I could smell the sweat cooling on her skin, her blood getting thicker with exhaustion. This was my only chance.

I pried myself off from the chair, rising in silence. I believed myself safe – and saved – when I reached the window, leading into freedom and oblivion. Risking one last second, I glanced behind me, taking in Bella's sight once more. I turned, about to leave, when, just for a split second, a word -

"Stay..."


End file.
